Secrets Boxset: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery Collection

by J. S. Donovan

  After a few days, the news started to report on the strange videos. Some of the journalists snuck the footage online without telling their superiors. The public was torn, as some believed that the interrogations were forced while others argued that the information was true.

  Arden and Joe moved into a different condemned house. The windows were boarded up with plywood, and there was no furniture.

  By the third week, things were changing. One of the men on the list Arden and Joe had yet to catch went on record saying that he was going to expose the truth behind the ludicrous claims. His plan backfired. The FBI dug into the claims and arrested him and other people on the list as well. Some were caught with kiddie films, and others were just under serious investigation. Even the police chief was under scrutiny.

  All in all, things were going surprisingly well. Though they had yet to save anyone, there was a major house cleaning happening all throughout Atlanta. Joe and Arden kept themselves from getting cocky. They took more time to go after a person on the list. Since Arden and Joe were not killing anyone, they had a harder time intimidating their victims. Joe’s solution was to leave the confession tapes with the victims and call the cops after the beating. It seemed to work.

  A month into this madness, and Arden had lost all sense of time. It had been days since she’d seen daylight, and her pale skin showed it. Her existence was consumed with stalking and attacking the various men and women. The only thing she’d do on her free time was eat, sleep, and plan out her next attack. Joe and her would also put together a theoretical hierarchy to see who was a supplier of the victims and who just partook in the “goods.” Some of their targets had even filmed themselves during the rituals. The press had a field day with those drops, even though they were too graphic to show on TV. Arden didn’t know if it was luck or divine intervention, but the police hadn’t caught them yet.

  One night, Joe arrived back at the condemned house, freshened up, and got ready to head out.

  Arden sat on the floor. She was illuminated by a small electric lantern she’d stolen and getting ready to send Derrick another drop message. She looked up at Joe with a cocked brow that posed a silent question.

  Joe slipped on his black gloves. “I’m just going to take a drive.”

  “Is that wise?” Arden asked.

  Joe glared at her. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  “We shouldn’t split up,” Arden reminded him.

  Joe headed out the back door.

  Arden stood up and watched him from the gap in the plywood. Their Cadillac sputter down the road.

  She returned back to her spot and worked on her notes. Her relationship with Joe hadn’t gone anywhere. On their way to-and-from various stakeouts and interrogations, they hardly talked. Arden didn’t know if they were on good or bad terms. She wasn’t sure how much she cared at this point. They were using each other to exact some sort of revenge/justice, but without saving any lives, the process was incredibly hollow. Arden lived one night at a time. She hadn’t opened her Bible in weeks. She barely dreamed anymore. Joe would spend his free time exercising. They’d practice hand-to-hand combat every once in a while, but whatever romantic spark Arden had felt a month ago was gone.

  Though Arden was sitting still, she knew she was running… running from herself… running from God. She rested her head against the wall behind her and stared blankly at the dark room. Its walls were white and empty. She wondered if anything she was doing mattered. If this was her life now, was it really living?

  Joe watched Jessica from across the street.

  She’d gotten a new haircut. It was a short bob that hovered over her shoulders. Joe thought it suited her.

  She washed dishes while Ethan gobbled down celery sticks at the table. Joe smiled slightly. It had been so long since he felt any joy, it was a surprise his stone-cold face didn’t crack from the simple grin. Dressed in a dark hoodie, jeans, and boots, he stood in the shadow beside the across-the-street neighbor's house. With his reverse sleep cycles, he was wide awake. Honestly, he was surprised to see that Jessica was awake so late, too. Joe’s mother was living with her now, but she’d fallen asleep drinking wine and watching television. In her seventies, Joe was surprised his mom’s liver still functioned. Not wanting to think about his estranged family, Joe quickly refocused his attention on his surroundings.

  He checked both sides of the street and made his quick run across. He walked around to the back door of his house and looked around the small bush where he used to keep the spare house key. It wasn’t there. Jessica must’ve moved it. Joe checked above the doorframe and under a few rocks. Success.

  He unlocked the door.

  Heart pounding, he stepped inside the laundry room. Walking quietly, he made his way through the house. He turned into the living room. The light from the kitchen was casting a fan of light across the hardwood floor. He moved to the threshold of the empty doorway and pressed his back against the wall. He peered around the corner and saw Ethan eating at the table. The two-year-old clenched a celery stick in each of his puffy fists. He had a mop of thin brown hair and chubby cheeks. He wore a blue shirt with a cartoon on it. Jessica wore an apron and her school clothes. She turned off the faucet with her elbow and dried her wet hands on the wash rag. She walked over to Ethan. “You ready to go to bed, buddy?”

  Ethan smiled and gently hammered his fists on the plastic support tray in front of him. Jessica took the celery from his hands. She put one of the sticks in her mouth like a cigar and tossed the other one in the trash. She picked up Ethan and looked at Joe standing at the edge of the room. He was only partly in the light. Jessica jumped.

  Joe took a step forward. His face was haggard. His goatee had grown longer, and there was the makings of a beard on his cheeks too. There was sorrow and joy in his expression. “Hey,” he said.

  Jessica drew her child closer to herself. “You need to leave.”

  “Two minutes. That’s all I need,” Joe said tiredly.

  Jessica nervously chewed on the inside of her cheek.

  Joe stayed tense, waiting.

  When Joe thought he had the silent go-ahead, he responded by saying, “I know this has been hard for you, but I want to tell you that I’ll be coming home soon.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Dad. I’m not a little girl.” Jessica replied as she teared up.

  “I’m doing my best to clear my name,” Joe said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about all the arrests. All I need is to find Scarlet and get her to tell her side of the story. Once that happens, the police will be ready to hear the truth.”

  “You shouldn’t have come here, Dad,” Jessica said as she bounced Ethan in her arms.

  “I wanted to see you. I wanted to see him.” Joe smiled at the toddler. Ethan smiled back. Joe turned his eyes back to Jessica. “I love you both. I’d give anything to be back in your lives.”

  Jessica stared at him. “Dad, I’m serious. You shouldn’t have come here.”

  “But--”

  There was a loud knock on the door.

  Jessica’s eyes watered. “They said you’d come here. They said it was only a matter of time.”

  The knocking grew more violent.

  “Police?” Joe asked as his hand found his pistol.

  Jessica looked away in shame. “I’m sorry.”

  Suddenly, the door was kicked in and two undercover cops rushed into the room.

  Joe turned around and ran, firing a bullet at the nearest window and hurling himself through the glass. He felt the shards cut into his forearms as he guarded his face and slammed into the lawn behind him. Police sirens screamed down the street.

  He heard the cops yelling and coming his way from both inside of the house and outside.

  Joe scrambled up the neighbor’s fence and fell next to the pool on the other side. Their little dog yapped at him as he ran out onto the road.

  Cursing, he ran down the street. The sirens grew louder. It wouldn’t be long before he saw a helicopter in the dista
nce.

  Joe didn’t slow down. He ran through more lawns and was splashed by sprinklers. After a few minutes, he was out of the neighborhood.

  Drenched in sweat and winded, he started back to headquarters -- the condemned house.

  A van was driving down the road.

  Joe ran out in front of it.

  The driver slammed on the brakes.

  Joe ran around to the driver’s side and aimed his gun. “Out. Now!”

  The driver quickly exited.

  Joe climbed inside and sped down the road.

  In the distance, he could see the helicopter getting closer. Joe turned off the van’s headlights and pulled into a car washing station to keep it hidden. He got out and proceeded on foot. In the heart of Atlanta, he found a cheap motel.

  There were prostitutes and junkies outside. His current attire allowed him to blend right in. He offered one of the girls some cash and vanished inside one of the rooms. As she started to disrobe, Joe told her to stop, sit on the couch, and be quiet. He pulled up a chair next to the window and watched for the police.

  After twenty minutes, a cop car pulled up. They asked around for Joe, but none of the junkies or hookers talked.

  The police drove away.

  Joe asked the hooker about a cab service.

  She gave him a number.

  He asked to borrow her phone.

  After getting a cab, Joe was dropped off at a house two blocks from headquarters. He paid the cab driver with the last of the cash he had on him and walked to where he needed to go.

  Looking over the remaining targets, Arden heard Joe knocking on the back door. They had a signature way of knocking to identify each other.

  Arden opened the door to home. Joe was a sweaty mess. He walked by her.

  Arden sealed the door behind him. “Where is the car at?”

  “I don’t have it,” Joe replied.

  Arden’s mouth made a line on her face.

  Joe took a seat at the side of the room. The lack of furniture was a major annoyance. “I went to see Jessica.”

  Arden fought back her instincts to yell about the car. “What happened?”

  “She doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Joe said. “And the cops were waiting.”

  Arden thought she should say something comforting, but felt dry. Stealing another car wouldn’t be fun or easy.

  Joe lowered his head to his pulled-up knees and began to tremble. Arden observed him for a moment. She realized he was crying. Arden could hardly believe it. She gingerly approached and sat down next to him. She hesitated and then put her arm around his broad shoulder.

  Joe wiped a tear away with his palm. He looked up at her, broken and defeated. “Pray for me, Arden.”

  The request threw Arden off-guard. Was this a joke? She hadn’t prayed in weeks. What would she say? She saw Joe’s desperation and put aside her feelings.

  “Father…” she said. Her heart rate quickened. Guilt and shame hung heavy on her shoulders. She pressed through it. “Jesus, get Joe home. Keep his daughter safe. Help Scarlet. Help us. Please. I… I don’t know how much longer we can go on. Please. You’re all we have now...” Arden never said amen. She didn’t want the prayer to end.

  In their shanty house, illuminated by a lantern light, they sat together. Joe mumbled his own prayer. “I just want to see my family.” Joe struggled with the words. “I’m sorry. I’ve done a lot of bad things. I repent, or whatever. Just help me. Help me and I’ll live for you. I’ll live for you now, Jesus, if that’s what it takes. Please, God.”

  Joe buried his head in his folded arms.

  Arden was breathless. She never thought he would make the plunge. She was brought back to the time when her sister died. She remembered her prayer. It was similar. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Arden sat with him for a while. She saw the lantern flicker. The sun was almost fully up now. She decided it was time to get some rest. She got up and realized that Joe was asleep. She let him rest. Arden found her sleeping bag and went to bed.

  The next night, they stole a car. Neither of them discussed the prayer, but Joe seemed more focused than he had been. Arden wasn’t sure if it was his newfound faith or just his drive to finish the mission. Either way, he moved with purpose.

  Their next stop would change everything.

  6

  Downcast

  His name was Jackie Finn. Forty-four years old, three times divorced, and the owner of a local talent agency.

  He was on Arden’s list.

  Hector Rivera said that Jackie was a “special kind of twisted.” He enjoyed luring girls into compromising situations and filming them for his personal collection.

  He was at the orchard the night Arden lost Scarlet and was possibly inside the ritual den.

  Tucked in the shadows between two street lights, Arden and Joe watched the high-rise apartment from their newly stolen car. They sipped on cheap gas station coffee. It tasted like burnt ash. Concerned with getting energy, she took another sip and glanced over at Joe in the driver seat. His gaze was fixed on the building ahead of him. His attention was absolute. The beginning of a scruffy beard clothed his cheeks. The ends of the beard were speckled with cinder for the first time in his life.

  Joe noticed her watching him. His expression posed a question.

  Arden asked. “What’s the play?”

  “Keep waiting. He’ll come out soon enough.”

  The clock ticked on.

  Though Arden had grown used to the waiting, she felt a strange anxiousness tonight.

  Her foot tapped. Her teeth chattered lightly.

  At around midnight, Jackie Finn stepped out of the high-rise’s front door. He fixed his cufflinks and waited at the edge of the road. Jackie wore a grey suit but no tie. An expensive watch clung to his wrist. He had slicked-back black hair that curled at the ends. His face was long and his jaw was like a brick. He had serpentine green eyes and thin lips. The guy stood with cocky pride. Even the way he looked down the street was with disdain.

  A classy Uber pulled up in front of him. He entered. Joe followed behind. They traveled through Atlanta, eventually coming to a halt in the busy downtown. Long lines of people trailed outside of nightclubs. Music sounded from rooftop bars. Police lingered near their cars, checking out the underdressed women as they passed by.

  Arden slipped on a flat cap and a fake lip piercing. She wore a bomber jacket and tattered pants. Makeup painted her face, making her look younger. She’d put some on Joe, as well, to hide his wrinkles. The disguises were necessary. After they finished tonight, they’d have to ditch their outfits to keep the police guessing.

  Jackie got out of the Uber with his phone pressed to his ear. He chatted away.

  Joe dropped off Arden and went to find a parking spot.

  Arden slipped through the crowded sidewalks, keeping an eye on Jackie. He skipped the line outside the nightclub, flashed his ID to the bouncer, and got right in. She didn’t have an ID or any means of getting into the nightclub. She walked to a nearby alley and searched for an alternative route. One of the bartenders lingered outside the emergency exit and took a drag from his cigarette. He rested one arm on the railing that ran next to the small set of three stairs outside the back door. Arden approached him and put on a helpless, cute smile.

  The bartender glanced up from his smartphone. He took a drag.

  “Mind if I?” Arden asked.

  He pulled the cigarette from his lips and gave it to Arden. She hadn’t smoked in years. The smoke danced around her tongue. She blew out a ring and gave the cig back to the bartender.

  The two stood in silence for a moment.

  “Check it,” the bartender said. He pointed his cigarette-holding hand to the rooftop bar nearby. There was a couple dancing. Their eyes were closed. They swayed slowly and rhythmically. “Pretty, huh?”

  Arden stared longingly at the couple. “It is.”

  The bartender took another drag.

  Arden said, “I’d lik
e someone to dance with. You mind if I come inside with you?”

  The bartender checked his phone. “Can’t. My fifteen is almost over.”

  “So you’ll leave me out in the cold?” Arden asked, playing with her voice to sound more sexy.

  The bartender pressed the tip of the cig against the railing he leaned on.

  He gestured for Arden to follow him inside.

  The music pulsed through the walls. Arden passed through a neon-lite hall before stepping into the main room. A sea of bodies swamped the dance floor and huddled around the large square bar in the center. Finding Jackie would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  “Ladies’ room?” Arden asked the bartender.

  He pointed to the restroom sign. She gave him a small smile and quickly turned that way. She texted Joe the location on her burner phone. He wouldn’t be able to get inside, but he could still watch the exits.

  Hands buried in her pockets, Arden walked through the dance floor. The loud music thumped in her ears. She kept a keen eye out for her target. After a few moments, she decided to asked one of the tray servers about a man with a grey suit. The woman sized Arden up and scoffed.

  “Take a number,” she said.

  “What does that mean?” Arden asked.

  The server rolled her eyes and walked on. Jackie must have quite the reputation. Arden found another server, a male this time, and asked him.

  The server contemplated for a moment. “I can put in a word for you…” he looked down at Arden’s chest. “What will you do for me?”

  Arden grinned and leaned in close to his ear. “I won’t scream and tell the whole club that you groped me.”

  The server went pale. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of Arden.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  The server pocketed his phone. “He’ll want to see you before he calls you up.”

  Arden stayed in the back corner of the club and watched the youth of her generation grinding on one another. After tracking down perverts for so long, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted any time she saw lustful acts.